


Long Live the Lonely Hearts

by Helena_Hathaway



Series: Long Live the Lonely Hearts [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: All the Fluff Tags Basically, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Frerard, Happy Ending, If You Don't Like Fluff Then DO NOT Read, M/M, Massive amounts of fluff though, No Smut, One Shot, Romantic Fluff, Side Peterick, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Very fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helena_Hathaway/pseuds/Helena_Hathaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frerard fluff chronicling the life of a serially single Gerard Way, annually moping about every passing year bringing the worst Valentine’s Day ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Live the Lonely Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't settle on naming this fic after a Fall Out Boy song or a Beatles song so I combined the two.

**February 14, 2011**

“Worst Valentine’s Day ever,” Gerard murmurs, frowning at the wall.

“Could’ve been worse I guess,” Pete replies.

“No it could not have been,” Gerard groans. “Look at me, I’m stuck here with you. You! I want to be with some hot guy who’s sticking his tongue down my throat. I want to be eating chocolate covered strawberries and listening to cheesy romantic music, like Lionel Richie. But no. No, I’m stuck here watching the chick flick marathon on the Family channel with _you._ ”

“Way to make me feel better about myself,” Pete groans, huffing a little bit and wrinkling his eyebrows together. Gerard’s not necessarily wrong though. Valentine’s Day is not meant to be spent with your old college roommate watching 13 Going on 30 and eating massive amounts of Oreo ice cream. It’s meant to be spent with an attractive person who wants to have the sexy times with you who won’t laugh when you say ‘the sexy times.’ Well maybe they’ll laugh a little bit, but they will still want to have the sexy times with you despite your idiocy.

“You’re great and all Pete, but I’d really rather make out with a cactus than you.”

“Same,” Pete nods. “Although, I’d probably regret that decision.”

“We’re going to spend, like, the rest of the night watching the Incredible Hulk win over various leading ladies! This just doesn’t seem fair. I’ve never murdered anyone. I pay my taxes! I’ve never stolen anything from anyone, unless of course you count that time I took the garden gnome from my neighbors’ lawn when I was twelve. I’m a good person though, and that’s my point. I deserve hot kinky sex with my boyfriend, but I’m completely unappealing to every one of the male gender. Fuck this, I just want a boyfriend who buys me dumb teddy bears from the drug store.”

“Or flowers. Chocolates. Yeah, I want someone to buy me a heart box of chocolates that are all pretty much nasty, but it’s the thought that counts,” Pete says.

“Stop it!” Gerard says, “Shut up or you’ll make me even more depressed. This is why I hate Valentine’s Day’s. Worst day of the year. First of all, nothing in the world is more heteronormative than fucking Valentine’s Day, other than the parents of small children that is. No date on the calendar is more depressing to be alone on. Not even Christmas is as awful as Valentine’s Day. I mean, all the best movies take place over Christmas time. Nightmare Before Christmas, It’s a Wonderful Life, The Polar Express, that one with Colin Firth and Liam Neeson and all the other British people who exist, and a bunch more. Valentine’s Day has that movie with Ashton Kutcher and other celebrities, but it’s really just a bad knockoff of that Christmas one.”

“And then there’s your curse,” Pete adds.

“Right! My Valentine’s Day curse. I’ve never had a date on Valentine’s Day and it is always, without fail, the worst day of the year. Broken bones, poison ivy, the time I got pink eye. All of these things can only ever happen on one day of the year. February fucking fourteenth.”

“Yeah, and I don’t have a date either, so it’s bad for me too,” Pete says.

“You know, we could consider actually leaving and interacting with other people? There’s bound to be some sort of singles night somewhere in town. We could try to make ourselves less lonely! Well, we can at least accidentally hit on straight dudes only to be turned down forcing us to buy dozens of chocolate bars to take the pain of rejection away.”

“Wishful thinking,” Pete shrugs, “but I don’t see why we couldn’t give it a shot. There’s literally nothing more depressing than being alone with your weirdo friend on Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m not the weirdo, you’re the weirdo,” Gerard says, making a face. He looks like a toddler complaining about someone stealing his crayons. 

“Well we can go, but you can’t wear that. You look like you haven’t done laundry in a while and all that you have left to wear is your old high school gym clothes that you found at your mother’s house.”

“I... that was uncalled for. You’re an asshole,” Gerard says, confused and somewhat offended at the same time. 

“Go sex yourself up though,” Pete says, pulling Gerard off of the couch which is a lot harder than he’d thought. Gerard had started to melt into the cushion because he’s been sitting there browsing the internet for the last three hours. Pete’s pretty sure he’s been looking at pictures of cats. 

“Sex up?” Gerard asks, “What does that even mean?”

“Tight jeans, and a shirt that shows off your collar bones, duh.”

“What’s so special about collar bones?”

“Oh you poor uncultured child,” Pete says, before he’s pushing Gerard away from the TV and into his room. “Now, don’t come out until you’re so hot that you make me question why we’ve never hooked up.”

“What a strange thing to tell someone!” Gerard shouts from behind the door. “And the reason is because you’re disgusting. I love you, Pete, but I also love Pringles and I wouldn’t fuck them either.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Pete says. 

Pete starts making a tisking sound when Gerard doesn’t come out of his room a few minutes later. The sound then turns into the theme from jeopardy, because Pete’s aware of how much Gerard hates that sound.

“Would you fucking stop that?” Gerard asks, coming out of his room a minute later. He’s done his best to dress accordingly. Pete’s instructions are often hard to follow though. He’s wearing his nicest pants at least. 

“What’s up, hot stuff?” 

“Never say that ever again,” Gerard warns him.

“How you doing, stud muffin?”

“Okay, I take that back, call me hot stuff all you want, but never ever use the term ‘stud muffin’ ever again. Never ever.”

“You just can’t decide what you want from me, can you?” Pete asks, shaking his head and walking towards the door.

“You’re so lucky that I have no friends,” Gerard says, shaking his head. That’s not exactly true, but it is true that he does spend an inordinate amount of time with Pete. So much so that they practically _are_ dating except for the fact that they both find the idea of each other in any romantic idealization the most disgusting thought in the entire world. Gerard loves Pete, really, but he’s Pete. He’s gross.

“Where are going then?” Gerard asks,

“That little diner around the block from here,” Pete says. Gerard knows the one. He’s lived in this apartment about two years now so he’s been to the diner more than a few times.

“Why there?”

“I saw a sign there when I was heading up here,” Pete says as they start off down the steps, “they’re having a special deal for single people or something? Free slice of pie I think, and I like pie, and I’m single as fuck.”

“Yes you are,” Gerard nods, “and there’s a good reason for that.”

“Shut up,” Pete whacks him in the arm. 

Gerard doesn’t stop teasing him as they cross the street. The road is pretty much empty right now. Who wants to be out and about tonight of all nights though? People probably all hurried home to their spouses or partners, while Pete and Gerard have been basking in their own misery. Not misery exactly, but Gerard doesn’t overly want to be in a crowded diner full of mostly straight people hitting on each other.

The diner is pretty much full. Everyone wants free pie to soothe their lonely hearts. Gerard’s not going to protest to a sugary vacation from his solitude. 

Right away he can tell that Pete’s made his mind up about something based on the way he’s staring at something across the room. Gerard follows his line of sight, seeing that on the other end of his glare is a man. Of course Pete is scouting out a date. Gerard should have known. He knows it was his idea, but he mainly wanted to leave the apartment so that they could at least make the claim that they _tried_. He didn’t think either of them actually would spot someone.

The guy Pete’s got his eye on is sitting alone in a corner of the room. He’s good-looking Gerard supposes, but he’s not his type. The guy is hiding his face with a fedora, which is somewhat of a boner kill in Gerard’s book, but Pete’s brain works in different ways than his. He’s got dark, somewhat geeky glasses that are almost covering up his insanely sharp cheek bones. His face is literally perfect, no blemishes in sight, which is pretty astounding. Gerard may like to pretend he’s no longer a greasy teenager but he still has zits now and again. That’s the thing no one ever tells you about adulthood, you still get acne.

“Oh here we go,” Gerard says, walking behind Pete as he makes his way towards the guy, who hasn’t noticed Pete’s staring quite yet.

“Shush,” Pete instructs, and Gerard follows only because he has to make sure that he’s about to lose Pete for the rest of the night. The guy might turn him down, though, which is why Gerard has to be there to check, because Pete hates being turned down and it usually requires Gerard to get him pizza, or something equally as indulgent. 

“Hi,” Pete says looking down at the guy. Gerard frowns, knowing that he’s going to have to either wait for this guy to realize Pete’s insane, or he’s going to have to awkwardly walk away when Pete hits it off. The first is a lot more likely. Pete’s completely bonkers. He’s totally harmless and he’s rather lovable, but he really has no marbles at all whatsoever.

“Hey,” the guy says.

Gerard eyes him and tries to figure out why on earth Pete went up to him. There are a bunch of people who look more likely to be gay than this guy does. Like the guy in the corner with the big scarf. He’s totally setting off Gerard’s gaydar. The guy who’s caught Pete’s attention looks more ambiguous. He could go either way, or a few ways. 

“You might want to get it out of the way,” Gerard whispers to Pete, who looks back at him with a confused look.

“What?”

Gerard rolls his eyes, and looks at the dude, who’s looking at the two of them with about as much confusion as the look on Pete’s face. Maybe they are soul mates, or maybe confusion is an emotion that universally follows Gerard. 

“Listen dude, it’s Valentine’s Day,” Gerard says to him, looking down because the man is still in his seat. “This is Pete, he’s attracted to you and would very much like to know if you’re into dudes.”

The guy looks at Gerard incredulously while Pete makes plans on how he is probably going to murder Gerard later, but Gerard doesn’t want to have to hear Pete moping about how the guy turned out to be straight. He’s heard that before, a few times actually. Pete’s very very bad at reading signs.

“I uh,” the guy starts, “what?” 

Gerard huffs, “It’s a yes or no question. Gay or nay?”

“I don’t know who this man is,” Pete says to the guy who’s actually kind of smiling about it. Gerard gives Pete a look.

“I’m Patrick,” the guy says.

“That’s a yes, Pete. You two crazy kids have fun,” Gerard says, and he leaves Pete at that. Pete will totally kill him later but that Patrick guy was kind of cute, so then again, maybe he won’t.

Gerard sets himself up for a night full of binging on sugary desserts. Literally no one in here is all that appealing to him. Over half of the people around him are girls, so they’re out of the running, and then there’s the boys, and Gerard can pretty safely cancel out all of the guys who are doing an awful job at hitting on the girls. There’s the guy with the scarf in the corner, but he looks incredibly uninviting to Gerard. He’s got one of those smolders that models give to the camera that makes it look like they’ve got a bad case of diarrhea, and an unwelcoming stance. Sure, he might be gay, but he also might have a thing for accessorizing, and Gerard doesn’t care enough to find out which one is more accurate. 

Instead, Gerard settles into an empty table and prepares himself to start daydreaming about next Valentine’s Day.

* * *

**February 14, 2012**

“Worst Valentine’s Day ever,” Gerard states.

“You said that last year,” Pete replies.

“Is he like this every year?” Patrick asks.

“Yep,” Pete nods.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. Fuck both of you. Why are you here? Are you just here to make fun of my misery?”

“Well I told you that I wouldn’t abandon you if we were ever alone on a Valentine’s Day. That doesn’t change just because I have Patrick,” Pete says.

“But now I’m just the sympathy case single friend who doesn’t have anything better to do than be jealous of you two idiots.”

Patrick says, “Pete’s the idiot, really.”

“At least he knows what’s up,” Gerard shrugs, “but I can’t just sit here and watch movies with you like we tried to do last year. You know how many times I have seen a rerun of Confessions of a Shopaholic? Enough times. That’s how many.”

“Well you could go look for prince charming and we won’t stop you,” Pete says.

“No, you’ll just fuck and talk about how sad it is that I’m alone on another Valentine’s Day. I know the drill. Everyone always pities Gerard!” Gerard says.

“Well we could try to not talk about you if you don’t want us to, but I’m not going to deny what’ll happen when you leave.”

“Pete!” Patrick groans.

“Who are you kidding?” Pete asks him.

“I don’t want to advertise things.”

“Gerard knows me better than anyone, we have a mind meld going on.”

“Patrick, you knew what you were signing up for when you boarded the train,” Gerard says, and he picks himself up. It’s Pete’s apartment they’re in today. Usually they switch off whose home they spend several hours playing video games in. Sometimes they don’t play video games. Sometimes they discuss really intense subjects like the science of the Death Star or the best era of David Bowie. Gerard says Ziggy, Pete’s more so for Berlin Bowie.

“Where are you going?” Pete asks.

“That bar down the street,” Gerard responds, “I don’t want to stay here and watch you two making eyes at each other. I’m going to go hang out with all the single people who are drowning their sorrows with liquor.” 

“I’m not going to stop you,” Pete says, grinning and Gerard makes a gagging sound in his throat to piss Pete off. It works, because Pete flips him off, and then turns to look at Patrick, while Gerard opens the door and then steps outside. He closes the door right when Patrick starts leaning into Pete, and that’s all he cares to see. 

Gerard shudders once outside the door. Great for Pete and all, but he doesn’t want to see it. Gerard does like Patrick, he absolutely does. Patrick’s perfect for Pete in a way, keeps him sane. They’ve done a good job making it to a year, and Gerard really doesn’t want to be there to spoil things. Besides, maybe he can have the same luck that Pete had had.

Gerard’s not suitably dressed for the weather, so he runs quickly to the bar which is a block down the road. The streets are pretty vacant as they had been last year. Gerard doesn’t focus much on them before he’s stepping into the small bar which is a lot more crowded than he’d anticipated. There’s no way to even walk anywhere without rubbing with a few elbows.

He’s never overly liked this bar, they’re way too overpriced and he’d rather just hang out at Pete’s place when he’s over in this part of town, but he’s here now. It’s not the worst place in the world for him to be. At least it looks like he won’t have couples flaunting themselves in his face. Couples aren’t dumb enough to hang out in public today, they’re all locked away in their bedrooms with empty Victoria’s Secret bags lying forgotten on the floor. Gerard wouldn’t mind having someone to buy him something like that. He can be just as experimental as the next person. 

Gerard makes his way over to the counter of the bar to order a coke, not really in the mood to get wasted because he doesn’t have anyone to look out for him if he’s too drunk to call a cab. Gerard likes to abide by the system where you always drink with a buddy. 

He’s perfectly aware that his bad luck magnet has the highest amount of force on this one day of the year, every year. He’s waiting for someone to spill something on him, or for him to be mistaken for someone else and punched in the face. It’s just a matter of time.

“Oh god, sorry,” someone says, bumping into Gerard. He turns around to say that it’s okay, and prepares to have someone vomit on him, when he sees a guy whose face should really come with a warning sign. That face could give someone a heart attack. Gerard’s mouth dries up the slightest bit because he’s fairly sure this guy is one of the prettiest people he’s ever seen.

He’s short. Very short. It’s adorable. He’s the endearing kind of short. Gerard thinks that he’s still probably taller than Patrick, because Patrick sure as hell is endearingly short. Having known Pete for such a long time, Gerard’s very used to being surrounded by short people. He also knows that short people are the ones you least want to mess with because they will fuck you up. 

His height is the second thing Gerard notices though, because the first thing is definitely the guys face. He’s the kind of kid who probably got caught blazing up behind school when he was supposed to be in class, which is very definitely under the category that would be called ‘Gerard’s type.’ He’s probably no stranger to makeup either. There are just some people you meet who you can tell are familiar with eyeliner. It’s a characteristic that you can’t get rid of even if you try.

His hair is dark, but Gerard’s not certain if it’s dark brown or black, because the lighting is so bad in the bar. Gerard is also pretty sure there’s a tattoo peeking out on his neck, and that’s how Gerard knows he’s found a potential heartbreaker. He’s exactly the kind of guy that Gerard dates for three months and eventually breaks up with over a stupid argument that’s usually a result of something tiny like eating the others’ cereal.

“Oh shit,” the guy says.

“What?” Gerard asks.

“Well nothing... it’s just that, I didn’t expect to accidentally bump into the cutest guy on the planet,” he says.

Gerard turns the color of the bubble gum he used to scarf down when he was younger to make himself look cool. Gerard had a lot of misconceptions of what ‘cool’ meant when he was a kid. Namely, anything that was cool, Gerard was explicitly bad at obtaining. 

“Wh-what?” Gerard asks, thinking that he must’ve heard wrong.

“Sorry,” the guy says, “I just meant that you’re really gorgeous, and I totally didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“What?” Gerard asks.

“You’re straight, aren’t you?” the guy asks him, and Gerard stutters for a moment.

“N-no. I’m sorry, I’m not used to...” Gerard drifts off, because he’s not sure what it is that he’s not used to. He’s not used to being told he’s cute. That’s something he doesn’t get often. He’s been told that he has the face of a baboons ass and that he smells like the contents of a garbage truck, but never has he been told that he’s cute.

“Not used to being complimented? I don’t buy that,” the guy says and then he holds out his hand, “I’m Frank.”

“Oh, uh,” Gerard mumbles, “Gerard. _I’m_ Gerard, I mean. God, I sound all stupid, and, I’m just, sorry.” 

“Gerard,” the guy, Frank, says, like he’s testing out the word. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Gerard before.”

“Well, now you have,” Gerard says.

“So you’re single then,” Frank states.

“I am. How did you know?” Gerard questions.

“Please,” Frank replies, “you’re out alone at a bar on Valentine’s Day. Either you’re single or your boyfriend is the stupidest fucking human being on the planet and doesn’t deserve you.”

“Why do you say that?” 

“Because if I had a boyfriend like you, I wouldn’t leave you alone on tonight of all nights. Not even if the world were ending.”

“Is this you flirting?” Gerard asks.

“Yep.”

“Why on earth are you flirting with me then?” Gerard asks, because there’s an enormous deviance from standards in this interaction. No way should a guy who looks like this Frank dude should be talking to someone about as appealing as pond scum like Gerard. Frank must really be desperate if he’s coming to Gerard for flirting.

“Because you’re the prettiest guy in the room,” Frank says.

“I think that would be you,” Gerard says and then panics at his own words. He covers his mouth with his hand, surprised with himself for saying that out loud. Frank just grins back at him, and seems to relax his stance a little bit.

“You think I’m pretty?” Frank asks.

“I didn’t... it just slipped out. You’re not not pretty. Sorry, I mean, oh god.”

“You’re not very good at this.”

“You can tell?” 

Frank giggles, “A little. You’ve got one thing going for you with that though, and it’s this insanely adorable dorky thing. I’d be proud of that if I were you.”

“Proud of the fact that I’m a gigantic dork?”

“We’re all dorks,” Frank says, “And seriously, we’re both losers who are single on today of all days.”

“I’m not single by choice, I’ll have you know. I just have as much allure as a rake,” Gerard says, and Frank laughs, which forces the rouge to return to Gerard’s cheeks.

“I’ve never found rakes all that charming, but if what you say is true than I’m pretty sure I would’ve heard quite a few more stories about people fucking their gardening tools.”

“I don’t think a rake is really a gardening tool. A spade, yes, but a rake?”

“That’s really not the part of my sentence that you should be focusing on,” Frank says.

“Oh. Yeah, right. So, what is this about your attraction to rakes?”

“That’s not what I said at all!” Frank says, shaking his head and beaming back at Gerard.

“I know,” Gerard shrugs, “but look at me, I don’t flirt. The only way I know how to flirt is to specify what utensils used in a backyard are considered gardening tools.”

“So you admit that you were flirting with me too then?” Frank says.

“What? Oh, I guess so. Well, you’re the first decent person I’ve met, and its Valentine’s Day, might as well give it a shot. 

“Can I get you something?” Frank asks, “A drink?”

“I’m fine,” Gerard says.

“Can I ask you something then?” Frank asks him.

“Sure? Depends on what you want to ask.”

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Oh god,” Gerard says, suddenly feeling like he misjudged everything about this guy. He thought that Frank was a really cute guy who was being sweet, he hadn’t realized the dude was looking for a hookup.

“No!” Frank says, holding out his hands, “Jesus fuck. Sorry, that came out completely wrong. I didn’t mean that at all! I wasn’t, like, asking if you wanted to get out of here so I can take your clothes off, that totally wasn’t it! I’m sorry. I meant, like, out of here to a different location where we’re not surrounded by people who aren’t drunk off their tits.”

“Oh,” Gerard says, “You didn’t... gotcha. That was, yeah, I mean, you’re nice and all, but if it had been the other thing-”

“No, definitely not. I mean, you’re gorgeous, you really are, but I don’t even know a thing about you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to... oh god, look at us we’re both awkward.”

“It’s always awkward meeting new people. When I met my best friend, he was my roommate in college, he was in the middle of getting ready to shower. Needless to say I got to know parts of him better than I would really have liked to.”

Frank laughs, smiling at Gerard like the tension has eased away.

“So do you want to go somewhere? Coffee? It’ll be on me,” Frank says.

“Well if you’re paying then I’m game.”

“If you’re looking for a gold digger than you’re barking up the wrong tree, man,” Frank says lightheartedly. 

“You’re saying the guy with the ninety year old shoes isn’t rich?” Gerard says, feigning surprise as he looks at Frank’s footwear. “Well that’s a real deal breaker.”

Frank chuckles, and then beckons Gerard to follow him. Gerard doesn’t protest, he just follows. He’s not keen on how many drunk people there are around him, but this was the only place he could think of where there would be a lot of other single people who he wouldn’t feel awkward amongst. He didn’t really plan on meeting anyone, but he’s not going to complain. Besides, Frank doesn’t seem like a psychopath. He _probably_ won’t viciously murder Gerard in any alley. 

“Where are we going then?” Gerard asks, when they’re almost out the door.

“There’s just a coffee shop across the street,” Frank says, “I figured it wouldn’t be as loud.”

“Okay,” Gerard says, and a second later, Frank’s opening the door for him and he’s stepping out into the chilled night air. It’s not that cold, but Gerard’s not really dressed to be outside in it. It feels worse than it is, and Gerard tells Frank to walk a little faster than usual because of that. 

Frank grins at him and seems to take that as a challenge, because he runs the rest of the way down the street until he’s standing in front of the illuminated entrance to the coffee shop. It’s not one Gerard’s ever spent a lot of time in. There’s a Starbucks a lot closer to Pete’s building than this place, but Gerard’s not really in a state where he cares that much. 

“After you sir,” Frank says, opening the door for him and curtsying a little bit, which makes Gerard laugh, and roll his eyes. Gerard’s greeted at the door by the feeling of warm air and the smell of coffee beans. It’s his favorite way to enter a building, really. There’s almost nothing he likes better than the smell of coffee.

“Your awfully corny,” Gerard says when Frank enters the building behind him.

“Today is the day of all clichés. If there’s any day to behave like you’re in a movie, it’s today. Or, as I like to call it, heterosexual awareness day, because we all know how hard they have it.”

Gerard snorts and allows Frank to walk him over to a booth in the corner. It’s a very small coffee shop, the kind that only stays afloat because of regular customers. There’s a bunch of sockets next to the wall where Gerard sits down, so he knows it’s meant to be used by people who bring their computer. The place is basically deserted though, so no one will really care.

“Coffee?” Frank asks him when Gerard sits down.

“Decaf,” Gerard responds, nodding a yes.

Frank returns a minute later, and sets a cup in front of Gerard before he sits in the space across from him. 

“Not exactly how I thought I’d be spending my Valentine’s Day,” Gerard says.

“Yeah, but you’re too cute to spend it alone,” Frank says. Gerard blushes and takes a sip of his coffee. Frank smirks across him, but not in a menacing way, in a really cute way. He’s got this little glint in his eye, a devious side, and Gerard has an instant longing to see that side of Frank.

“So tell me about this best friend then,” Frank says.

“What?” Gerard asks.

“College roommate? Must put you in your twenties at the very least. Now if I’d have guessed just by appearance, I’d have said you were jailbait, but it doesn’t look like that would be correct, so you’ve got to be way older than you look, I can just tell. So, if my assumption is correct, then a college roommate would be an older friend, someone you’ve spent a lot of time with over a long period, and I suppose there’s more weird stories to tell if you have known someone that long.”

“How old do you think I am?” Gerard asks.

“Like I said, you look really young, but you don’t act like it, I bet you’re way older than you look.”

“I’m not going to tell you then,” Gerard says, sipping his coffee. Maybe he can have a little bit of a wily side too. 

“Oh okay, so that’s how you’re gonna play it?”

“I suppose it is.”

“Well then tell me about the college roommate.”

“Oh, uh, Pete. He’s the stupidest human being on the planet. I mean, he is. I love the guy, but he’s somewhat oblivious half the time I talk to him. You know those people who never get a joke and half the things you say go right over there head? You’re probably expecting me to say that’s Pete, but that’s not him. Pete’s nothing like that. He gets everything but he’s always an idiot about it. Like he’ll hear a joke and then try to one up you with his own bad joke, and it’s just a train of him spiraling downhill. And he has a codependency on pizza. He is such a fucking idiot.”

“But you’re not with him now, so _he_ has a date?” 

“Yep. That’s why I’m lonely and talking with, well, you. Not that I’m complaining. But yeah, he met a guy last year. Today actually, he met a guy on this day last year.”

“That’s a great story to tell your grandkids isn’t it? Met a guy on Valentine’s Day. Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to tell that story too,” Frank says, and Gerard’s pretty sure he’s going to eternally be blushing if he talks anymore to this guy.

“You’re giving yourself a lot of credit there, aren’t you?” Gerard asks.

“Maybe,” Frank shrugs, “but you never know.”

“I do actually,” Gerard says, “this is the worst day of the year. Always is, without fail. I always have bad luck on Valentine’s Day. It’s cursed. Something bad is going to happen. Something will go wrong, I just don’t know what yet.”

“That’s a rather grim way of looking at things.”

“Yeah, I guess, but it’s backed up with facts. In seventh grade I got a valentine for the first time. Well, I mean other then when I was a little kid, you know, like when you give everyone in your class a card. But I got one in seventh grade and it turned out to be from this girl who was playing a prank on me. She told me she liked me but really she just wanted to make me look like an idiot. See, to this day I think that was one of the factors that made me gay. Well that and because I just am, but you know, it made things easier to figure out.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank says, “that doesn’t mean it’s always bad though.”

“Broke my arm in fourth grade,” Gerard says. “Got bitten by a turtle in fifth grade. Food poisoning a couple of years ago. Oh, you can’t forget about the time when Pete and I got arrested. That was a hell of a night.”

“You got arrested?” Frank asks, “Oh now, there’s a story behind that.”

“Oh, it wasn’t that big of a deal. As it turns out, fake ID’s are illegal. I mean, we knew that, but we didn’t plan on getting arrested for it. It wasn’t that big of a deal though. We got out after a few hours.”

“Yeah well, that might be true, but I don’t have any stories about being arrested.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. Smells funny, like weed and dirty laundry,” Gerard says. “But I’m just unlucky on this day. That’s just the way it is.”

“I’m sorry about that. Maybe we can make this year an exception,” Frank says. “Give me your phone.”

“What? Why?” 

“Well because one thing that will make today less unlucky is if you get the cute guys phone number,” Frank says and he holds out his hand, gesturing for Gerard to hand his phone over.

“You called yourself cute. Maybe a little arrogant?”

“I’m confident, not arrogant,” Frank says, “you should be too.”

Gerard shakes his head but sighs and pulls out his phone, handing it to Frank. He takes it gladly, and then he’s handing it back to Gerard quickly after typing something into it. 

“Can I be sure that you didn’t just give me the number for a sex hotline? Or maybe 867-5309.” 

“Do I look like that big of a dick?” Frank asks. “But go ahead, call me right now if you want, I promise you that’s my number. I would definitely not give a fake number to a guy that looks like you.”

“Alright, I believe you, but Jesus, you’re a dangerous flirt,” Gerard says.

“I don’t know why it’s taken you this long to realize that,” Frank says. 

It’s hard for Gerard to keep track of the time. What Gerard thinks is twenty minutes actually turns out to be more like two hours. He knows that when the owner of the coffee shop walks over to them and tells them that they need to leave.

“Shit,” Gerard says, looking at the clock, “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

Gerard is aware of the fact that he has work tomorrow, because it’s a Tuesday. His office isn’t liberal enough to let people have the day off to recover from all the hardcore sex they probably had on Valentine’s Day. 

“I have to go home, Frank,” Gerard says, “I have work tomorrow.”

“That’s alright,” Frank says, “but don’t be Cinderella on me, okay? Make sure you call me.”

“Or else what? You’ll knock on every door in the city until you find me?”

“You bet I will,” Frank says, “but let’s not have it come to that.”

“Okay,” Gerard agrees, holding the door open for Frank to leave the coffee shop. He knows it’s nearly midnight and they probably stayed in the shop way too long, and it’s probably way past their hours. They just got caught up though. Gerard’s pretty sure that Frank is the coolest person he has ever met.

“You promise you’ll call,” Frank asks, wrapping his sweatshirt around himself when the breeze hits him. 

“I promise,” Gerard says, turning to look at Frank. 

“Good,” Frank nods, and Gerard bites his lip, not knowing how to walk away. He doesn’t want to, because he really could stay awake for another couple of hours talking to Frank. He’s starting to detest his job solely because of that. 

“Good,” Gerard repeats, nodding. Frank’s looking back at him, and Gerard’s all but forgotten the fact that the air around him is actually fairly cold. 

“Hey Gerard,” Frank says, when he starts to turn to head in the opposite direction.

“Wha-” Gerard starts, before Frank’s lips are pressed against his. Gerard’s caught extremely off guard by that. He doesn’t even remember to close his eyes, and then he’s got this feeling like ‘fuck it.’ It’s Valentine’s Day, Frank’s cute and he likes the guy, he might as well kiss him. But he can’t just stay here and let Frank do all the work. 

Gerard closes his eyes and grabs the sides of Frank’s face, holding him there, and he lets his heart flutter for a really long moment. Gerard also lets himself believe that nothing is going to go wrong today. This will be one of the very few Valentine’s Days where nothing goes wrong. It’s almost the end of the day, and nothing bad has happened. The opposite actually. He’s met Frank and he’s adorable. Frank likes Gerard and Gerard likes him, so this day has been a success. He’s finally going to make it through this day of the year and it’ll be great.

It might not be the worst Valentine’s Day ever. Just this one can be good. And maybe he will get to know Frank until next Valentine’s Day. 

Frank pulls away after way too long when you consider that they’ve known each other for three hours. 

“Talk to you soon, Gerard,” Frank says with that big beaming grin on his face again, He doesn’t say anything more before he starts walking in the direction that Gerard really wishes he were going in. He’s not unfortunately, but he really fucking wishes he was. 

Gerard bites his lip again, remembering a second ago when Frank’s lips were there. He giggles a little to himself and starts making his way across the pavement. 

Gerard’s still smiling absent mindedly to himself when he steps into his lonely looking apartment a little while later. Valentine’s Day is almost over, and he got a cute guys number, and now he’s just really happy. Everything that he’d been wishing for aligned perfectly for him. He kind of deserves this. One good Valentine’s Day in the sea of shitty ones. 

He goes to stand by the kitchen sink, happily, even though he has a pile of dishes that he forgot to wash. He looks at them, and starts the sink running over a pile of plates before he takes his phone out and scrolls through the contacts, looking for the new one. It’s not like he plans to call Frank, he just wants to look at it for a moment, because Gerard hasn’t gotten a guy’s number in over six months. He’s not very good at the whole dating thing. Or flirting thing. Or getting people’s numbers thing. He’s just very bad at anything that has to do with romance. 

Gerard grins back at the seven digits in front of him, and he thinks maybe his tradition of awful Valentine’s Days might be finally over.

That is until his hand slips.

One minute Gerard is looking at Frank’s number and the next, he’s feeling his phone slip from his fingers for some unexplainable reason. Gerard has butterfingers, he always has, he’s always dropping things accidentally, but this has to be a record for the all-time worst slip he’s ever had.

Time slows down for a long second as Gerard watches the phone clatter down into the sink half-full of water. The screen turns from a bright bluish color to black in an instant, and Gerard’s heart stops.

“Fuck.”

* * *

**February 14, 2013**

“Worst Valentine’s Day ever,” Gerard huffs. 

“Officially been one year since that Frank guy,” Patrick states. “Sorry dude.”

“It’s not that,” Gerard says, “it’s just that I’m single for yet another Valentine’s Day. Who knows if I’d have still been with Frank if I hadn’t lost his number last year? Probably wouldn’t be. No one stays with me for more than three months.”

“You’re so pessimistic,” Pete scolds, “You’ve got to keep your head up. No one wants to date the guy who doesn’t think anyone could ever be with him. He’s annoying, and smells like spinach.”

“There’s nothing wrong with spinach!”

“No but who’d want a guy that smells like it? Patrick smells like coconuts,” Pete smiles at Gerard. 

“I don’t care what Patrick smells like.”

“I think you probably would if I smelled like spinach,” Patrick says. 

“So this is exactly where you met the guy, right?” Pete asks, “We’re here and he might come back?”

It’s the same coffee shop he and Frank had sat at last year. Gerard’s not necessarily expecting to see Frank here, he’s just feeling nostalgic. It had been one of the best nights of his life. Just talking to the guy. He had seemed fantastic. Gerard could’ve really liked him. He could’ve really fallen for Frank and had his heart broken after a few months, but no, unfortunately Gerard’s an idiot.

Frank had kissed him just out of these doors. He wants that to happen again.

“What, like some sort of sitcom? No thank you. I don’t want to _actually_ live in a movie, I just want to kiss a guy the way people do in the movies,” Gerard says, though he’s secretly hoping that might happen in the back of his head. He’s too invested in the idea of Frank, he just can’t help but give it a chance that he might come back.

“So not enough tongue?” Pete asks.

“You know what I mean,” Gerard groans.

“Not really.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Don’t need to. I got Patrick.”

“Ew!” Gerard hollers covering his ears with the sides of his elbows. Pete smirks at him, and Patrick reassesses his life choices. He does that a lot actually. Pete is a weird person to put up with it, and he’d have given up a long time ago if he didn’t love the guy to pieces. 

“Shut up, he’s perfect,” Pete says, and then he sticks his tongue out at Gerard. Gerard settles further into the booth at the table, wishing that Pete would start acting like an adult rather than his usual self, who is definitely not anywhere above the age of six.

“It’s probably super creepy that we’re here right now,” Pete says, “I mean, look at us, we’re sitting where Gerard’s boyfriend was.”

“Boyfriend?” Gerard asks, emphatically, “I knew him for three hours!”

“Yes, but you wuved him. Your wuv for him was vewy stwong. You wanted to have his lil babies,” Pete says.

“I will hurt you,” Gerard says.

“Oh come on,” Pete says, “Gerard, you said it yourself, you knew the guy for three hours! 180 minutes! That’s nothing. You need to get over him.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d met him. He was really special.” 

“Onto a more interesting subject-”

“Pete!” Patrick scolds him. 

“Sorry,” Pete says, though he doesn’t sound in the least bit apologetic. Pete’s heard about Frank a dozen or so times since last year, and he’s kind of sick of it. Patrick’s a lot less rude about it. Gerard’s said it before, and he’ll say it again, Patrick keeps Pete sane. Pete is a helium balloon, and Patrick’s the one holding onto his feet, stopping him from floating away.

“I just really hate Valentine’s Day,” Gerard groans, slouching into his seat. 

“So I’ve heard,” someone says, and Gerard turns around in his spot to look at the source of the voice. 

Frank. _The_ Frank. The one who he’d spoken with a year ago and totally not dreamt about a bunch of times since. Definitely not. Gerard’s mind is as clean as a whistle. 

Despite the presence or lack thereof of Gerard’s dreams about Frank, he’s standing right there behind the booth. He’s looking at Gerard with a mix of expectancy and anger. Gerard doesn’t blame him one bit for being angry. Gerard’s a bit angry at himself too.

“Frank,” Gerard says, aghast, almost choking on his words from surprise.

“You had better have a really fucking fantastic explanation for why you never called me,” Frank says, crossing his arms.

“Hey Patrick, look at that cinnamon shaker,” Pete says, looking and pointing at a table across the room. “We have to go check that out.”

“What?” Patrick asks, “Oh, wait, I mean yes! You’re right. Can’t believe we didn’t notice that before!”

Pete scoots himself out of the booth, and has Patrick tailing behind him not long after. Pete’s not very good at being subtle, but at least he didn’t come out and say something embarrassing in front Frank. Gerard’s not stupid enough to believe Pete has any interest in a salt shaker filled with cinnamon, and Frank watches the two of them go with the same expression on his face that Gerard has. 

“Your friends are looking out for you,” Frank says.

“I don’t even know why I put up with them,” Gerard says, “Would you, uh, care to sit down?”

“Sit down?” Frank asks, looking at him disbelievingly. 

“You’re mad,” Gerard announces. 

“I’m mad? Mad? You could say that, I guess,” Frank says, and he walks over to the other side of the table, sliding in to sit directly across from Gerard. He uncrosses his arms, but his hands have been made into fists, and Gerard really wouldn’t blame Frank if he decided to punch him in the nose. Gerard had promised he’d call. He promised a few times. Frank had also said that he would knock on every door in the city if Gerard didn’t call, but that was obviously a joke. Gerard really had meant to call, and he’s never quite gotten over the fact that he didn’t. 

“I’m, uh, sorry? I can explain!”

“I’d love to hear it,” Frank says.

“Well, uh, see the thing is,” Gerard says, awkwardly playing with his hands on the table. “I got home after we’d talked, and I, uh, well, you may not believe me, but I’m telling the honest to god truth.”

“I’m listening,” Frank says.

“Well, I dropped my phone in the sink,” Gerard tells him, and then, all in one breath, he says, “And I am such a fucking idiot. I dropped my phone in the sink. I mean, the thing was already on its last legs, I’d had the same phone for like four years, so it was totally about to give in soon anyway, but the point is that I totally and completely ruined my sim card, and that’s where your number was, and it was just, ugh, gone.” 

“Gone?” Frank repeats, “You dropped your phone in a sink and that’s how you’re excusing the fact that you didn’t call me for 365 days? Actually, no, 366 days, because it was a leap year.”

“Yeah,” Gerard says, sounding nervous and looking really awkward, “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. We really hit it off, and it felt like you and I could have been fantastic, but now, like, I’ve totally ruined my chance, haven’t I? My serious stupidity totally ruined everything.”

“Yep,” Frank nods, and Gerard’s heart falls, making him feel the worst he’s felt in months. He really didn’t mean to not call Frank, that was totally unintentional, and now he feels a million times more awful about it. It was a lot easier to pretend Frank didn’t mind it all that much when he couldn’t see him. Gerard had felt awful and guilty enough as it was, but now he feels like he shot a unicorn in the fucking face.

“Well I mean,” Frank says, like he’s continuing his sentence, “you would’ve ruined your shot with me if you weren’t so damn cute. You’re a fucking asshole, don’t get me wrong, but you’re so adorable.” 

Gerard looks up at him, somewhat disbelievingly and Franks giving him this look like Gerard’s a complete idiot, but he’s also smiling back at him, the same smile Gerard remembers from a year ago.

“You really do have bad luck on Valentine’s Day,” Frank says, shaking his head.

“I told you!” Gerard says, “I mean the phone I could deal with losing, but I really like you and I’m so fucking sorry it took so long. I really am. I wish I could take the whole year back and I’m so sorry.”

“Relax. Stop saying sorry, I’m just giving you a hard time,” Frank says, “We’re here now. One year closer to dying, but oh well. At least I found you at all. I will make sure that it doesn’t happen again, but I’m thankful to finally know the truth. I was petrified that I was seeing things that weren’t there and that you didn’t like me. I honestly thought that you might not have liked me, and that’s why you didn’t call.”

“No! That’s not it at all,” Gerard says, “god, I’m such an idiot. Sorry again. And sorry for saying sorry. I’ll try to stop.”

“God, you’re cute. And I’ve got you feeling guilty, which might come in handy someday.”

“You’re going to rub it in until the day I die,” Gerard says, shaking his head.

“I like that you think I’ll know you for that long.”

“What? Oh god! I didn’t mean, I was, like, it was an exaggeration! I didn’t, I mean, oh fuck.”

“Relax!” Frank says, “You’re adorable, you know that?” 

“God, I’m sorry for being awkward. You waited 366 days just to hang out with this loser, what a fucking letdown.”

“You need to calm down,” Frank says, “I’m okay. I mean, it’s a good thing we only barely know each other, because it’s actually really fucking sucked not getting to know you. It could’ve been a whole lot worse if we’d known each other more.”

“So it’s not just me then?” Gerard asks, “We really did have a connection, and I haven’t been over-romanticizing it all this time?”

“No, definitely not.”

“So, how did you know I’d be here then?” Gerard asks.

“I hoped I was right about you losing my number,” Frank says, “I just had to hope that was why you never called. So I figured there was an off chance you might be here tonight. Sort of a How I Met Your Mother kind of dream, if you understand my feeling. I guess that makes you my slutty pumpkin, but you left me on a hook for a year, so I get to call you whatever I like without you complaining. I just thought that maybe you’d be here hoping the same thing I was hoping. I’m really glad I was right. You’re the only Gerard I’ve ever met, I need to get to know you more, because I doubt I’ll ever meet another one is pretty as you.” 

“Oh,” Gerard says grinning. 

A second later, Pete is sliding into the booth next to Frank and he’s poking him in the face to test if he’s real. Pete lives in a world where he sometimes checks that people aren’t holographs. He doesn’t believe robots will ever take over, he believes holographs will. He’s seen Tron or something too many times.

“So this is the legendary Frank!” Pete says, “Good to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you. Gerard is in wuv with you.”

“This is Pete, I take it,” Frank says.

“You told him about me?” Pete asks, “Oh, Gerard, you’re such a sweetheart.”

“Pete!” Patrick says in a tone like his dog accidentally got loose of its leash. To be honest, that’s basically what Pete is, he’s just the human embodiment of a really hyper dog. 

“So are you gonna marry our little Gee?” Pete asks Frank, and Gerard sinks so far down into his seat that he’s likely to dissolve into the floor.

“Pete, I swear to god,” Patrick says, looking at him like he’s going to punch him in the face. Frank’s just grinning like an idiot, and looking at Gerard who’s about to just die to save himself the embarrassment of knowing Pete. 

“What? Am I bothering you?” Pete asks Frank.

“Well you’re bothering _me_!” Gerard says.

“No, I don’t mind,” Frank says.

“I like you,” Pete says, looking at Frank and then at Gerard, “Gerard, I approve.”

* * *

**February 14, 2014**

“Worst Valentine’s Day ever,” Gerard mopes, holding the sides of his pillow like his life depends on it.

“You know, for once, I just might agree with you,” Pete says.

“Why is it so bad for you?”

“Because I hate seeing my best friend so upset,” Pete replies. 

“I hate everything,” Gerard says, sniffling. He’s been like this for the past four days. Gerard hasn’t left the house for anything at all. He has literally been a hermit up in Pete and Patrick’s third floor apartment, eating the soup the two of them have been bringing over to hopefully appease him. It hasn’t been helping. Gerard’s just full of chicken broth and regret. It’s an uncomfortable combination.

“I’m so sorry man,” Pete says. “Really, I am. I hate seeing you so miserable.”

“I hate _being_ miserable. Trust me it’s worse to be me right now.”

“I believe you, don’t worry. I know how hard this must be, but that doesn’t mean I can understand what you’re going through. This really sucks, and I’m sorry it’s happening.”

“I just wish I could take the last week back and have a do over,” Gerard mumbles.

“I know,” Pete nods, slouching a little further on the bed beside Gerard. Gerard’s been here ever since Frank and he had fought, Pete doesn’t know over what. He just knows that Gerard stormed out of their apartment and he’s been staying in their extra room ever since. They’d only _just_ moved in together. Pete was pretty sure he and Frank were actually going to make things work, for real. He still thinks that, but he won’t believe it with as much force as he had before until Gerard stops being this stubborn. 

“Hey, you wanna go out? Go out and have fun? You can still have a good time without Frank, I know you can.”

“But I miss him,” Gerard says, and he feels his stomach twist up inside of him, forcing a loud sob from his throat. That’s when Gerard buries his head in his pillow again. Pete’s honestly really worried that he’s going to get dehydrated from all the crying he’s been doing. It can’t be good for him. 

“I know you do,” Pete says, “And I’m sorry you fought.”

“I just, ugh, I hate him, you know?” Gerard says, lifting his head up from his pillow, “I just hate him so much, but I love him more than anything in the world. I just, I just want him back!”

“I know,” Pete says, wrapping an arm around Gerard and wishing he could just suck up Gerard’s pain and throw it away. 

“I wish he didn’t get so angry!” Gerard says, “And I wish he didn’t... I just, screw everything, I want Frank.”

“I know you do, and I’m sorry,” Pete says.

“Why’d it have to happen before Valentine’s Day? This was going to be my first year ever actually having a date on this stupid holiday, but now he’s not even here.”

“You’re just unlucky at this time of the year. Things will get better, you know that. In a day or two, you’ll probably be able to move past this.”

“No!” Gerard says, “Frank’s an ass. He didn’t even say sorry. Why should I forgive him even if he did say it?”

“Because you love him, and when you love a guy sometimes you’ve got to forgive and forget. I mean, as long as he didn’t cheat, you can probably find the space to forgive him, I know you can. And Frank wouldn’t cheat on you, right?”

Gerard sniffles again and says, “No, he wouldn’t. But that doesn’t change what happened.”

“I know, and it’s not much of a silver lining, but it’s something. I know you don’t mean that you never want to see him again, Gerard, we both know you better than that.”

“He’s such a fucking... I don’t know. He’s a whatever.” 

Someone knocks on the door, and Gerard doesn’t have to look up to know that it’s Patrick, probably coming back with another glass of water he’s going to try to get Gerard to drink.

“Hey,” Patrick says, frowning when he sees Gerard’s face which has gone all red, and his eyes puffy. 

“What?” Gerard asks, holding off on the ‘what do you want’ because he may be grumpy and angry but it’s not Patrick’s fault. 

“So, I, uh, know you may get angry at me for this, but there’s something I want to tell you, Gerard,” Patrick says.

“What?” Gerard asks, already expecting the worst.

Patrick looks behind him, looks somewhere out the door and into the living room. He then gestures for something, or more likely, someone. Gerard feels his heart sink, because he’s pretty sure he knows what Patrick’s on about, and he’s really close to getting extremely angry about it.

“Frank’s here to see you,” Patrick says. 

“Well tell him to go away,” Gerard says, seeing Frank step into the doorway to look at him. In all honesty, Frank’s not looking all that better than him. He’s higher functioning, but his eyes are no less red than Gerard’s. Also, he’s been by himself the past four days while Gerard’s had two people looking over him hand and foot. But Frank’s been in their apartment with all of his possessions, while all that Gerard’s had since getting here are the clothes on his back. 

“I’ll leave you two,” Pete says, removing his arm from around Gerard’s shoulder, and Gerard looks at him desperately as he’s standing up.

“No!” Gerard says.

“I’d rather we talked alone, Gee,” Frank says. 

“But I’d rather we didn’t,” Gerard spits back.

“I’m sorry,” Pete says, walking past Frank and out behind the doorway. Gerard doesn’t have enough sense to get up and follow him though, because he’s quite content in the little dent he’s made in the blankets. 

“I just wanna talk, Gerard,” Frank says. He turns to Pete who nods at him slightly, and Frank gets some sort of subliminal message from him before he’s closing the door. The silence feels infinitely more palpable than it had been with the door open. Now Gerard’s alone with Frank. He wants to be, of course he does, but at the same time he wants Frank to be on the other side of the world. He’s here though, he’s with Gerard and what he really wants is to go over there and kiss that motherfucker like his life depends on it, but at the same time, he wants to smack him in the face. Gerard stays where he is though, because the last thing he wants is to actually hurt Frank.

“What do you want to talk about?” Gerard asks.

“Listen,” Frank starts, “We fought, and that’s something I can’t change. I wish I could, I wish I could just take back everything I said, and everything we yelled at each other. I wish that could just be completely erased, but it can’t be. That’s just the fact we’ve got to face. Shit happened, it’s over, we can’t take it back.”

“You were an ass.”

“Yeah, I was. So were you, Gerard,” Frank says. He walks over to the bed, not sitting down, and Gerard pulls his knees up into his body defensively. He doesn’t want Frank anywhere near him. Gerard doesn’t have a reply to Frank insulting his behavior, partly because he knows Frank’s right, and partly because he doesn’t want to start calling Frank names again.

“But the thing is, I know that what happened can’t be taken back. I know that. But all couples fight, and that’s what we need to remember. We’re not out of the ordinary for getting angry at each other, it happens. That doesn’t make it better, I know that, but, like, it doesn’t make us any worse off.”

“So what are you saying then?”

“I’m saying that I know we got mad at each other. I know we said shit, and we can’t pretend it never happened, because it did, but I also know that we can’t just give up because we had _one_ fight. It was going to happen eventually, we had to fight. Fighting is how you know something’s working.”

“No it’s not,” Gerard says, trying to see how on earth fighting could possibly mean anything good.

“Well, yeah, it is actually. Because if you don’t fight than where the hell is any passion coming from? It’s just not there. You know I’m passionate about you, Gerard, and that’s a good thing. The fact that you made me so angry is a really good thing, because it means, for both of us, that we really care about each other. You can’t get so fed up over things with someone you don’t like. That’s not how things work. That means that you and I are actually better off than a couple who’s never had a single fight.”

“So you’re trying to tell me that calling you an asshole is a good thing?” Gerard asks.

“Well the specifics of name calling probably isn’t the best thing in the world, but it’s better that we got angry than if we hadn’t. The point I’m trying to make here is that, yes, we fought. We got angry, we called each other names, we yelled, you stormed off and I didn’t stop you. We’re both wrong for both of those things. You shouldn’t have stormed off, I shouldn’t have let you leave. Just because all of those things happened though, that doesn’t mean for one second that we should breakup.”

Gerard doesn’t say or do anything, just continues looking down at his knees rather than at Frank. Obviously he doesn’t want to breakup with Frank. He’s just never stayed in a relationship after having a fight like this though. That’s usually the sign that tells him to quit. It’s usually after a couple of months, not a year, but this is always how Gerard’s relationships end. There’s a big fight, they yell, and then it’s done. Frank’s the first person he’s ever lived with where that happened though.

“You and Pete fight, don’t you?” Frank asks.

“Sometimes,” Gerard shrugs. He and Pete obviously fight. It’s impossible not to have a best friend who you don’t want to murder every once and a while.

“But you’re still friends. You two never let it ruin you. Why can’t we be the same way?”

“Because... because it’s different,” Gerard shrugs, not sure himself whether he believes his own answer.

“Not really,” Frank says, “I mean, I’m not trying to make you angry again, trust me. That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do, but still, the point is that I still love you. I was angry, sure, and it’s not exactly going to subside for another couple of days, but I still love you to pieces Gerard. I’m just really not in the mood to let this all go to waste, let what we have all become nothing, just because we had a fight. It’s just not that big of a deal in the end. I can’t help loving you, and I know you still love me.”

Gerard shrugs again. There’s no denying that he still loves Frank. He’d need a memory eraser to ever stop loving Frank. He loves the man to pieces. 

Frank’s looking at him intently, Gerard can feel the stare. He also feels the mattress bend a little as Frank sits down a foot away from him. 

“Gerard?” Frank asks, and he can tell Frank’s doing his best not to grab his head and force Gerard into looking at him. 

“What?”

“You do still love me, right?”

Gerard inhales and exhales deeply before looking up a little and nodding. Frank seems really relieved from the small glance Gerard gives him before he’s putting his head back down.

“Gerard, I don’t want us to fight today. Today’s our anniversary! One year! Two years since we met. I just, I want us to get past this, because I don’t want you to have to spend Valentine’s Day alone, and I know I don’t want to spend it alone either. I know you’re whole thing is that Valentine’s Days are unlucky, and to an extent, you’re right again, but let’s not make it so bad we never get over it.”

Gerard nods slightly, looking up again, “yeah, okay.”

“Okay? Like, you don’t want us to breakup, okay?”

“Yeah,” Gerard says, “But I’m still angry.”

“That’s okay!” Frank assures him, “That’s alright. You can be angry, I understand. I just don’t want us to be apart.”

“Neither do I,” Gerard agrees.

“Yeah?” Frank asks, smiling lightly. He scoots forward a little bit so that he’s sitting closer to Gerard, and Gerard lets his knees drop a little bit, sort of his way of letting his guard down. 

“I love you, you know,” Frank says.

Gerard nods, “yeah, I know.”

* * *

**February 14, 2015**

“Worst Valentine’s Day ever!” Gerard says into the receiver of the phone.

“I know,” Frank replies, “And I’m really sorry. Really, I am. I wish I could just, like, _will_ this stupid plane into getting here, but I can’t. I’m so sorry, Gee.”

“Is there another flight you could get?” 

“No, I’m sorry. I really really am. I want to be there as much as you want me there, but I can’t just get on any old plane and fly myself there. I would if I could, you know that.”

“Yeah,” Gerard says, “Ugh, but I still hate it. Any chance you’re about to sprout wings and fly yourself here?” 

Frank chuckles on the other end, “No, I’m sorry. I would be there if I could be. I would bend the world just to see you today, but it’s not in the cards. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing. I know it’s not your fault. I just hate this. We’ll still have tomorrow,” Gerard says, but it’s not much of a consolation. There anniversary is today, but today is going to be over in just a few hours and Frank’s not there.

“I really thought this would be a quick trip, just to the conference and then home, but I guess I’m just too much of a believer. Where are you now?”

“I’m getting dinner,” Gerard says, shrugging, “if you’re not going to be home, I’m heading out to go get a pizza.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow, save some for me,” Frank says. Gerard huffs, and he locks the door behind him as he walks down the hallway. He’s envious of all the people behind these doors who are all probably having super romantic candlelit dinners while Gerard is stuck on yet another awful Valentine’s Day. He’s had some really awful luck on this day over the years. Really great luck with the fact that he met Frank today three years ago, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that he’s not here now. Now it’s their two year anniversary, two whole years, and Frank’s not even there to celebrate it with him.

“Yeah, I will,” Gerard says, “I love you.”

“Love you too, Gee,” Frank says sounding sincere and really sad about the whole thing. Gerard knows that he doesn’t want to be in an airport, and it’s not his fault. He’d probably rather be almost anywhere that doesn’t include waiting for a delayed flight, but that doesn’t make Gerard feel any better about the fact that he’s not here.

“See you tomorrow,” Gerard says somberly, and Frank makes a noise of agreement before Gerard’s hanging up. 

Gerard’s extremely miserable on his way down to the pizza shop a few blocks away. He’s miserable looking at the number of couples he sees as he gets there. They’re all straight, but still, Gerard’s jealous. He wants that with Frank right now. He wants to be in their apartment having sex or something, but no, Gerard is in the middle of a pizza shop ordering himself extra onions and garlic on his pizza because he’s not going to get a chance to kiss anyone tonight. 

The one year he finally has a boyfriend, finally in a stable relationship, and Frank’s on a business trip. This is hell.

Gerard grabs his pizza as soon as his name is called and he takes the same route back to his and Frank’s apartment slowly. He wants to throw things at everyone holding hands, but he also doesn’t. He knows they’re happy, and he wouldn’t want to ruin that just because Frank is away. He still hates it though.

Gerard trudges at a sloths pace up the steps to the right floor, pizza box in hand. He keeps his head down, not wanting to look at anyone or anything that isn’t the ground below his feet. He’s already starting to feel the loneliness kick in, and it’s making him feel really sad. Yet another holiday spent watching chick flicks all by himself. He really hates this. He wants just for once to have a decent Valentine’s Day where nothing goes wrong. Just _once_. He’s not asking for much! 

Gerard messes with the keys in his pocket before grabbing them and sticking the key into the doorknob, pushing it open slowly. 

Gerard lifts his head up, expecting to see an empty apartment, and he’s not surprised by the fact that what he sees is exactly that. Somewhere in the back of his head, Gerard had really been hopeful that maybe Frank was completely lying about being caught up at the airport and that he only said it to surprise him. Gerard was hoping to enter to find rose petals or scented candles or something, but that’s not what he finds. Just their apartment, simple as always. No Frank, no nothing. Just an empty apartment. 

Gerard grumbles to himself, sets the keys on the table by the door and then walks over to the counter, setting the pizza down as well. Gerard shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the hook by the door. Frank will kill him if he doesn’t. He’s not here, but he’d probably be able to sense it. He’s got a sixth sense for that sort of thing. 

Gerard then makes his way down the small little hallway to their bedroom. If Frank isn’t going to be here, Gerard has absolutely no reason to not walk around in his pajamas. He can do whatever he wants, really. He can wear that batman shirt that Frank tells him is too faded for any recognition. He can listen to his music a little too loud, or dance around their apartment. He doesn’t want any of those things though, he wants Frank.

Pajamas sound nice though. If he can’t have Frank then he can wear his pajamas. As Gerard makes his way to the bedroom, he pushes the door open slowly and that’s when he sees Frank. 

Gerard’s almost surprised to see him, but then again, he’s really not. Of course Frank lied to him to surprise him. He’s seen just as many romantic comedies as Gerard has. Now of course, Gerard’s luckier than all of the bland girls in those movies, because Frank is much more attractive than any human ever, but still, Gerard has a bit of a soft spot for Letters to Juliet.

Frank’s sitting there at the foot of the bed looking all smug and dapper in a dress shirt that’s been undone at the top where he took his tie off. He’s got an innocent look in his eyes, and he’s holding a small teddy bear in his lap. 

Frank, because he’s probably the cutest human to ever walk the planet, makes the bear wave at him when he sees Gerard standing in the doorway. Gerard grins at him, and opens his mouth to say something, but he can’t think of any words to enunciate how annoyed he is that Frank lied to him, but how _glad_ he is that Frank lied to him. It’s a strange feeling somewhere in the area of wanting to smack Frank and wanting to rip his clothes off.

“Pete told me something about you wanting a cheap drug store teddy bear for Valentine’s Day,” Frank says, “now, it’s not from a drug store, I actually picked this up at the airport, but I hope this’ll do.”

“You...” Gerard starts, “are such a twat. I hate you.”

Frank grins at him, standing up and holding out the bear towards him. “Look at it, it says ‘Love You’ on its little feet. I think that expresses anything I’d have said pretty well.”

“You’re such an ass,” Gerard says, rolling his eyes. He steps forward and takes the bear from Frank’s hand. It’s warm where Frank was holding it, and Gerard just rolls his eyes. He steps closer, pecking Frank on the lips before pulling back and shaking his head. 

He’s happy, absolutely he’s happy, because Frank’s being so cheesy. He loves it. Gerard loves his cheesiness more than he’s ever loved anything else. 

“You love me though,” Frank grins.

“Nope, look at this cheap ass bear! All I got you was your favorite book signed by the author, no big deal. But you have to love a literary classic, fucking Catcher in the Rye, so it was massively expensive. Took me a month and a half to track down, but whatever. Your gift is clearly much more thought out and personal,” Gerard says sarcastically, looking at the bear.

“Oh, well, I did get you one other thing. That is, I got you one other thing if you want it. 

“And what’s that?” Gerard asks, squinting at Frank skeptically. He’s expecting Frank to shout ‘psych’ and say that all he actually got was the bear. 

“Uh, well, here goes then,” Frank says, taking a deep breath, and looking directly into Gerard’s eyes. “So today is our anniversary. Today is the anniversary of when we first met, when we first got together, and our first kiss. So today is a pretty important day.”

“And I’m really glad you’re here for it.”

“Aww, I’m glad you’re happy. My point is that today is a very important date on our calendar. So, like, I figure that we should have as many different things to celebrate on this day as we can. So like, whatever needs to be remembered, it should be today, because it’s so important to us.”

“Okay?”

“What I’m trying to say is this, uh, hold on, I should really do this properly,” Frank says, and what Frank does next seems like a dream to Gerard. Gerard’s just looking at him, getting lost in his big pretty eyes, being thankful that Frank’s here and not in some airport a million miles away. He’s just looking back at Gerard and then, he’s reaching into his pocket and Gerard is watching him get down on his knee.

That’s right about when the earth stops moving. The air from the earth is sucked out of the atmosphere. Gerard’s feels his mouth drop animatedly like he’s in a cartoon. 

“You are not doing the thing,” Gerard asks incredulously.

“I am. I am doing the thing,” Frank confirms, looking up at Gerard who’s now several heads taller than him, because he’s literally on his knee now, and he’s holding up this little box. Gerard’s looking at Frank, and he’s looking at the little velvet box, and then he’s looking back at Frank, then back at the little box.

“Frank,” Gerard says, almost whimpers looking at him.

“Gerard. You know what’s coming. Gotta ask it anyway. It’s more traditional,” Frank says, in a tone that isn’t as serious considering that he’s on his knee with a fucking ring in his hand. “Gerard, will you, like, marry me?”

“You’re such a moron,” Gerard says, shaking his head, and smiling at Frank, because there’s no way that smile is going anywhere. It feels like someone’s glued the smile to his face and he couldn’t possibly get rid of it. Of course he can’t, Frank’s proposing to him. He’s supposed to feel giddy and smile like a maniac. 

“Is that a yes then?” 

“Well, duh,” Gerard says, and the teddy bear almost falls loose in his hand at the sight of the smile on Frank’s face. He’s probably made out of literal sunshine. He’s some sort of scientific experiment where they harnessed the energy given off by sunlight, kittens, and a baby panda. He’s that adorable.

“Really?”

“No, I’m totally pulling your leg,” Gerard says blandly, and Frank’s beaming gets even more hard to handle as he pulls himself back to his feet, wrapping both of his arms around Gerard. Gerard throws the bear onto the bed, because it’s getting in the way of hugging Frank back. 

“Do you have any idea how much I love you, Gerard?” Frank asks, pulling back and grabbing Gerard’s hand, because it’s started to look way too empty for his liking.

“Probably a little less than I love you,” Gerard says, smiling.

“No way is that possible,” Frank says, shaking his head and slipping something around Gerard’s finger. Gerard honestly doesn’t give that much of a crap about the ring itself. He just hopes Frank didn’t spend too much money on it. He doesn’t want a diamond, he’d probably look pretty silly with one. That’s one perk to being gay though, engagement rings don’t cost as much.

“I’m going to kill you tomorrow for lying to me like that,” Gerard says when Frank wraps his arms around the back of Gerard’s neck.

“Yeah?” Frank asks. “Well as long as I get to kiss you first than I guess that’s okay.”

Gerard smiles, leaning down to kiss Frank, but his smile won’t go away. He feels happier than he’s ever felt in his entire life right now. He lets Frank kiss him anyway, smile getting in the way, but Frank’s grinning like an idiot too. 

Gerard’s finally got a date on this day, this stupid day that’s always hated him. He’s finally got someone, and it’s Frank, so he’s got the most perfect date ever.

“Best Valentine’s Day ever,” Gerard declares.

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess I should I dedicate this to my annoying girlfriend who always tells me she'd leave me for Patrick Stump. I still like you, though I don't know why, so this is for you, ~~you fucking moron~~.


End file.
